


Make My Wish Come True

by Achika



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe, Christmas, Holidays, M/M, basically a hallmark movie, schmaltz
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-08 15:03:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12867063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Achika/pseuds/Achika
Summary: Heath runs a bakery and has seven kids. All he wants is a smooth holiday season.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I watched way too many Hallmark movies with my mom over Thanksgiving. I apologize for nothing.

The mall is crowded. Heath sighs and checks his watch. They've been in line for 15 minutes now.

"Ugh, this is the worst," Brandi Lynn mutters.

Heath agrees, to be honest, but. "You hush. It's not for us. Look how excited Mary Lou and Leroy are,"

Mary Lou and Leroy are practically vibrating with joy that hasn't diminished no matter how long they've been in line for.

Santa is right there at the end of the line, waiting for them to get there. Leroy is babbling in Toddler Speak about what he's going to ask Santa for and Mary Lou just stares in fascination at the whole setup.

Brandi Lynn nods, but she still looks like she'd rather be anywhere else. She always looks like that nowadays, though. Heath had hoped that the holiday season might lighten her mood up a little, but teenagers are stubborn creatures.

Eventually, they get to the end of the line and it's their turn.

"Ho Ho Ho!" Santa laughs, "And what are your names?"

"Leroy!" Leroy shouts excitedly.

Mary Lou doesn't say anything.

"That's Mary Lou," Heath says. "She's -"

"Shy, eh? That's OK," Santa says, and hands both of them candy canes. "Now. Have the two of you been good this year?"

They both nod frantically.

"I believe you. Have you decided what you want for Christmas yet?"

"A truck! and a soccer ball!" Leroy says.

"Good choices," Santa says solemnly. Heath agrees. That should be easy enough. "And what about you, Mary Lou? What do you want?"

Mary Lou glances over at Heath and Brandi Lynn quickly before getting a determined look on her face and leaning in to whisper into Santa's ear.

Santa hums thoughtfully and whispers something back.  Mary Lou nods in response to whatever he says.

"How about we have my elf friend take our picture?" Santa asks. The assistant dressed in the green elf costume steps forward to the camera with big smile.

"And what about you?" Santa asks Brandi Lynn after the picture is taken. "What do you want for Christmas young lady?"

Brandi Lynn looks taken aback and it takes a second for her to recover.

"Uh...how about not having to help out at the bakery?" She says, raising an eyebrow at Heath.

Heath shakes his head. "Sorry, missy. My dad had to do it, I had to do it, Rosco and Ashley had to do it, you're going to do it too.  Nana will come down from Heaven shaking a wooden spoon if I let one of the kids skip out on helping Slater's Sweets,"

Brandi Lynn shrugs. "I had to try,"

"Yes you did," Heath agrees.

The elf girl hands over the photo of the kids and Santa.

"Say goodbye to Santa, kids. We have to go find your siblings,"

"Bye Santa!" Leroy yells.

 

The holiday season is busy at Slater's Sweets, which is good, but boy is it draining. The bell above the door rings just as Heath is taking some special ordered pies out of the oven.

"Just a second!" Heath yells, and sets the pies down to cool.

"Hi! Welcome. What brings you in today?" Heath says, walking through the door from the kitchen to the front counter area. He ditches his oven mitts on the counter.

The customer is a rather intimidating looking man with dark hair. He looks at Heath and winces.

"Pie," he says. Then he clears his throat. "Er. I need a pie for a work party?"

"Well you came to the right place. What kind were you thinking?" Heath asks with a smile as he grabs a pen and the order pad by the phone.

"I don't...know? I'm not actually a pie guy. Sorry," the customer says. He looks a little embarrassed by the admission. It makes him a lot less intimidating.

Heath gasps in exaggerated shock.

"Not a _pie guy_! My word!" Heath laughs, before the customer could start to think Heath's actually offended. "That's alright. Do you want me to make a suggestion, then?"

"Please," the customer says.

Heath hums and narrows his eyes, examining the customer.

"Well, you don't seem like a Pumpkin or Sweet Potato kind of guy to me. Apple is a classic but kind of boring if you want to impress your coworkers. I think...Yep. I've got a Bourbon Chocolate Pecan passed down from Nana Slater herself that will knock your socks off," Heath says.

"I don't know about that," the customer says.

"You dare question Nana Slater's recipe?" Heath asks with a laugh. He hands a little sample cup of the pecan pie to the customer. "There. Try it. Tell me that everyone at your party won't love that and I'll eat my oven mitt,"

The customer pops the bite into his mouth. His eyebrows go up in surprise.  Heath grins in victory. Nothing beats Nana Slater's pies.

"That's...really good,"

"Well, if someone who's not a pie guy says that, it must be true," Heath says. "Is that the flavor you want to go with for your party?"

"Yeah. That's good. Can I pick it up at noon on Wednesday?" the customer asks.

"Sure thing! What's the name for the order?" Heath asks, writing down the information onto the order pad.

"I'm Rhyno," the customer says.

"Alright then, Rhyno. I'm Heath, and I'll see you Wednesday with your pie," Heath says.


	2. Chapter 2

It's the end of the day and almost time to close up for the night, and Heath's getting a jump start on the prep work for the next day. The bell above the door rings and Heath looks into the front of the house to see a short, balding man on a cellphone looking around.

"It needs work but there's a certain charm to it," he says. His voice carries.

Heath steps out to the counter, and the guy doesn't even acknowledge him. 

"We can make that happen. Your interests are my interests,"

Heath just stands there awkwardly until the guy hangs up and - finally - acknowledges Heath's existence.

"Mr. Slater, I presume?" he says.

"Heath. But yeah, that'd be me," Heath says.

"Mr. Slater, my name is Paul Heyman and I am the… advocate for my client Brock Lesnar," he says, and hands Heath a business card.

Clearly, Mr. Heyman is not here to buy a pie.

"Can I...help you?" Heath asks, eyes narrow as he glances from the card back to Mr. Heyman.

"Oh no. No, you see, _I'm_ actually here to help _you_ ," Heyman says. "My client is looking to expand his business and this quaint little establishment caught his eyes,"

"Isn't it nice?" Heath says. "Nana Slater picked a great location, and Pappy did most of the woodworking himself,"

Heath could tell all kinds of stories, but something tells him that Paul Heyman doesn't actually care.

"I'm not looking for a business partner, though, so I think your client's out of luck," Heath says.

"Once again you misunderstand, Mr Slater. My client isn't interested in becoming a partner. He wants to buy you out. This is some prime real estate you're sitting on," Heyman says. "We're prepared to be very generous,"

Heyman's phone rings again. "I've got to take this. I'll be in touch, Mr. Slater,"

He leaves, and Heath laughs to himself. What a strange man. He throws the business card into the trashcan.

Slater's Sweets isn't for sale.

 

Rhyno returns to Slater's Sweets still looking a bit awkward.

"The pie was really good. Everyone liked it," he says.

"I told you so," Heath says with a grin.

"I was wondering. Do you maybe want to get coffee sometime?" Rhyno asks.

Ashley - who is stocking the display of mini-pies - giggles to herself soundlessly. Heath can see her shoulders shaking, and it's lucky she's hidden by the counter or Rhyno might be embarrassed. Heath kicks her gently with the toe of his shoe.

"I would like that that," Heath says.

Ashley pops up from behind the display and Heath gets the pleasure of seeing Rhyno nearly leave his own skin in surprise.

“You can go right now! Rosco’ll be here in here in about 15 minutes and we can handle it for a while without you,” she says happily.

Heath narrows his eyes at her. “I will be counting the snickerdoodle cupcakes before I leave,”

Ashley puts her hand over her heart and tries her best to look innocent. “I do not know what you are implying, but I resent that tone,”

“Mmmhmm. I’m sure,” Heath says.  He turns to Rhyno. “…Is now OK? Since apparently I’m free,”

“Now’s fine,” Rhyno says.

They go for coffee and walk around the square for a bit looking at all the decorations that people have put out. It turns out that Rhyno's a lawyer, and he works for a pretty high powered firm.

"They're not all bad. They do a lot of Charity work,” Rhyno says.

“That’s nice,” Heath says.

The antique store has their window display full of old Christmas toys and memorabilia.

“Pretty sure I have a picture of my dad and Pappy Slater playing with one of those,” Heath says with a smile and a gesture to the rocking horse in the window.

“Your family means a lot to you, I can tell,” Rhyno says.

“Oh, they’re the most important thing in my life,” Heath says.

“How many kids do you have?” Rhyno asks, curious. “Obviously the girl in the shop was yours, but…”

“Seven,” Heath admits. “I love ‘em to death but they can be right terrors,”

“Wow. That must be tough,” Rhyno says.

“It’s easier when you’re the boss and can bring them to work, but I wouldn’t ever say it was easy,” Heath says.

It seems like a blink of the eye and suddenly the streetlights are lighting up. Darkness creeps up so quickly in the winter, but the square is illuminated by colorful Christmas lights that make everything seem so much more welcoming.

“Pretty lights,” Rhyno says, taking a sip of his coffee as he admires the scene down on the courthouse lawn.

“I love this time of year,” Heath says.

 

Paul Heyman comes back a few days later, when Heath is wiping down the lobby tables, followed by a very, very large man.

"Mr. Heyman, I hope you're here to buy some cookies," Heath says.

"No cookies, Mr. Slater. I've got to watch my waistline, you know," Heyman says with a pat to his stomach. He’s trying for good natured. Turns out he just sounds smarmy.

"Well then I can't imagine what kind of business you'd have in a bakery, Mr. Heyman,” Heath says, pointed as he can be while still being polite.

“My client has prepared an offer to purchase Slater’s Sweets,” Heyman says, and holds up a stack of papers.

“I’m afraid Slater’s Sweets isn’t for sale,” Heath says.

Heyman exchanges a look with his large companion.

"Now, now. Don't say that until you've seen our offer," Heyman says, and hands over the papers.

Heath flips through them politely, until he sees the total amount they want to give him and Heath's brain kind of stutters and breaks.

"I...what?" Heath says. He's never seen that many zeroes in one place in his life.

"Like I said last time, my client is a very generous man," Heyman says.

The money's enough for all of the kids to go to college - _good_ colleges, too. Heath has to take a second to collect himself.

"Mr. Heyman, I -" Heath says. His rational brain is screaming at him to take the deal, but his lizard brain is telling him he can't trust Heyman and his heart...

Heath looks around. The Christmas Village is the same one Nana Slater bought piece by piece. The garlands and lights are strung around the wooden shelves Pappy Slater built by hand. And Heath vividly remembers his dad putting the angel on the little tree in the corner every ear. This year he'd held up Leroy and let him do it.

"Mr. Heyman. I'm sorry. I can't sell this place. It more of a home to my family than our actual home. It was my Dad's first job. It was my first job. It's my kids' first job," Heath says, and hands the paperwork back to Heyman.

Heyman's companion, who had been getting increasingly impatient as this went on, steps forward.

"You've got kids?" he says.

"Yeah. Seven," Heath says.

"I've got kids too," he says. "and let me tell you. I don't give a shit about your kids,"

He steps forward even more until he's practically nose to nose with Heath. He's a few inches taller than Heath, which not many are, and he's built like a tank. But Heath stands his ground.

"If you think you can intimidate me, especially when it comes to my family? Maybe you need to look closer at those photos my Nana put up on the wall," Heath says, keeping his voice even and motions without breaking eye contact to the photos and newspaper clippings that had been carefully framed.

Nana had been so proud of his boxing, even when she worried for him, and cheered louder than anyone when Heath had won those championships.  He’d given it up after he’d gotten his bell run when Jenny had been pregnant with Ashley, but Heath refuses to let himself be intimidated in his own damn shop.

Heyman puts a hand on his companion's arm.

"We'll let you keep thinking," Heyman says. "Brock, let it go for now,"

_This_ was Heyman's client?

They leave,  Heyman whispering to Brock. As soon as they clear the door Heath turns the lock, flips the sign to closed, and turns off the lights. He goes back to the office and drops into the chair bonelessly.

Christ. Golden Gloves Champion or not, Heath's pretty sure he was just almost murdered for his property. Who would ever believe it?

He reaches for the phone.

"Hello?" Rhyno says on the other side.

"Hi. It's Heath and...you know what? It's dumb. Never mind. I shouldn't have -"

They’ve only really gone out the one time, Slater’s Sweets keeping Heath busy because of the holiday rush. It’s all a bit much to spring on a guy you’ve only just met.

"Are you ok?" Rhyno asks, concern flowing through the phone.

Heath laughs.  Fuck it, they’ve only been on one date, it’s not a big loss if it scares Rhyno away. And he’s a lawyer, he’s probably heard worse anyway.

"I don't know. But if I wind up dead suspiciously in the next few weeks, it was definitely foul play. Jesus Christ, Rhyno.  A guy named Paul Heyman was just here and -"

" _Paul Heyman_?" Rhyno interrupts. "What on earth did _he_ want?"

"His client wants to buy Slater's Sweets and...I don't know. Do whatever with it," Heath says. "What do I do? I _can't_ sell but they keep trying and it's so much money,"

"I'll be there in an hour. You should probably close for the day, you're too frazzled to work,"

"One step ahead of you," Heath says. "Thank you,"

 

45 Minutes later there’s a knock on the front door and Rhyno is on the other side of the glass. Heath’s had time to cool down and is no longer freaking out so badly. Now there’s room to feel embarrassed that he called Rhyno in a panic.

“You really didn’t have to come all the way over. I’m sure you were busy, and I was overreacting,“ Heath says, when he lets Rhyno in.

“You really weren’t,” Rhyno says, dead serious, and looks Heath square in the eyes. “Whatever you do, _do not trust Paul Heyman_ ,”

“That’s not reassuring, Rhyno!” Heath says, strained, and relocks the door behind Rhyno.

Great, now he’s starting to panic again.

“…I’m sorry. It’s just that I used to work for the guy when I was younger. He’s not a good man. Do you still have the papers?”

“I…yeah. Yeah, they’re on the counter in the kitchen I think. Pretty sure that’s where I left them,”

“I definitely want to look at those,”

“Thanks, Rhyno. You really don’t have to do this,” Heath says.

“Maybe not. But I’m going to,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm the worst I"m sorry it's taken this long to continue this but in my defense the only person who wants Christmas Hallmark movies in august is my mom, so...


End file.
